


Mother's Love

by angelontheoutskirts



Series: Queen Erica [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6264016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelontheoutskirts/pseuds/angelontheoutskirts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place approximately 3 months after Mother's Intuition. Life couldn't be better for Queen Erica, loving husband, a healthy baby boy and another on the way but when tragedy strikes and new threats reveal themselves will she be able to hold her family together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Erica smiled proudly as she walked through the ballroom. Her stomach swelled with Alistair’s son. Beside her, clutching her hand tightly and taking tiny steps, her firstborn, Duncan toddled. The gathered nobles bowed before their queen and crown prince, the hero and her son. Erica made her way to the raised platform at the other end of the room, where her husband stood. Alistair took the hand Duncan wasn’t holding and raised it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.  
“My Queen” He greeted. Erica smiled and gave a small curtsey.  
“Your Majesty.” She then picked Duncan up and stepped up on the platform next to her husband. Cheers rang out, filling the room. Alistair smirked.   
“Happy anniversary” he whispered. 

As the evening began to wind down, Erica made her way out on to the balcony, enjoying the scent of midnight roses as it drifted up from the garden. She wasn’t surprised when a familiar blond mage joined her.   
“Not enjoying the party?” He asked her. Erica smiled.  
“Nathaniel was kicking.” She explained, gesturing to her stomach. “Where’s Hawke?” Anders shrugged.  
“Your wine cellar probably.”  
“Good I suppose, someone will need to drink my share.” She laughed and then sighed shaking her head. “Alistair will probably come looking for me soon; I swear you’d think I was made of glass the way he worries.”  
“You are the most important woman in Fereldan, Erica.” Anders pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “To Alistair at least.”  
“Naturally your list has Hawke at the top.”   
“You’re in my top 2, sweetheart.” He told her. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling.   
“You’re in my top 3 because of Duncan.” Anders did his best pout, though the twinkle in his eyes told her he was joking.   
“How am I supposed to compete with a baby?” Gently he placed a hand on her stomach. “I’m going to be demoted again once this little guy comes.”  
“I’m afraid so.” She patted his hand gently. He shrugged.   
“At least I’m higher than Teagan.”  
“For now, but the second you start calling me into meeting to deal with grumpy nobles…” She laughed. Anders wrinkled his nose.  
“Now we both know that isn’t my method.”  
“True…don’t blow up my palace…Alistair would never forgive you for damaging his cheese pantry.”   
“She’s right; I’ve only just got it at the perfect temperature.” Alistair came up behind her, pressing a kiss to her temple. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed Anders’ hand on her stomach and the mage quickly pulled his arm back. “Feeling alright?” He asked Erica. She nodded.  
“Your son’s just bruising my insides, that’s all.”   
“Why is it when they’re cute, they’re ours but the second Duncan needs changing or Nathaniel starts kicking they’re mine?” Erica smirked.   
“Ah, because I can get away with it.” She batted her eye lashes at him. She barely noticed Anders’ hasty departure before Alistair leaned down, pressing their lips together. “You scared him off.” She whispered against his mouth. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her.  
“Maybe.” He kissed her again. “Allow me a jealous impulse every now and then?”  
“Anders is harmless, he has Hawke, you know that.”   
“I do,” He rubbed their noses together. “But seeing you tonight, glowing like this…” he reached up to stroke her cheek. “I can’t imagine any man being able to keep his hands off of you, I know I can’t.”  
“I’m as big as an ogre,” she muttered.   
“A very beautiful ogre.” He told her. “Shall we go back inside?” Erica shook her head.  
“No, let’s stay out here just a little longer? In there were King and Queen Theirin out here we’re Alistair and Erica.”   
“I’ve missed them.”  
“So have I.” She whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest. Alistair moved his hand to her hair, smoothing her chestnut curls. “Who’s watching Duncan?” she asked.  
“My…uh…” He cleared his throat. “Fiona’s got him.” Erica smirked.  
“Mother, you can say it, you have before.”   
“I’m still getting used to the idea, being an orphan for 35 years and then suddenly having a mother…”He shook his head. “I don’t know.”   
“You’ll figure it out.” Alistair kissed the top of her head.   
“I love you.” He whispered. Erica smiled, closing her eyes.  
“I love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter deals with miscarriage which can be triggering to some readers, please read at your own discretion.

Her eyes snapped open as the child within her kicked particularly hard against her belly button.  
“Maker!” She gasped, startling Alistair awake. He sat up, flailing a bit in the tangled bedsheets.  
“Erica?” He asked once he managed to sit up.   
“I’m okay!” She hissed as another kick landed. “I’m okay Ali…” She told him.   
“Should I send for Anders?” She shook her head.   
“It’s just kicking, I’m alright.” She wiped her eyes, where a few tears had started forming. Alistair frowned.   
“Just kicking?” He reached a hand over her stomach, trying to soothe the infant inside. She gasped as another kick landed, his frown deepened. “Erica…I didn’t feel that…”   
“But your hand was right above it…how could you not…?”   
“I’m getting Anders.” And then he was up and out of the room. Erica placed a hand on her stomach, shaking her head. Too early for labour, she was only six months along. She reached her hand down between her thighs and gasped when her fingers came back sticky with blood.   
“No…” She whispered. “Maker no…” 

Anders arrived only a few minutes later, as did Fiona and both cast orbs of mage light to see better.   
“Maker…” Anders hands moved over her stomach. “The baby’s still alive, I can feel the heart beat but we’ll need to get him out.” Erica shook her head.  
“It’s too soon.” She argued. Anders brushed a hand over her forehead, looking into her eyes.  
“Erica…if we don’t…we could lose you both.” She grabbed his hand.   
“Then save him, promise me, if it comes down to him or me, you’ll save him.”   
“Erica…” He cleared his throat. “I promise.”  
“Then do what you need to do.”

Erica woke up in her private bed chamber, the scent of roses wafting in through the open window and from the bouquet Alistair had left in a vase on her nightstand. They hadn’t let him inside the room during surgery but she knew he’d been pacing outside the door. Slowly she sat up, regretting it as her head started pounding.  
Anders entered the room, the corners of his mouth drawn tight. That’s when she knew, and tears started pouring down her face.  
“I…” he began.   
“You promised me! You promised me you would save him!” She shouted.   
“I promised to save him if it came down to a choice between you two. There was nothing to be done Erica…I’m sorry.”   
“I was so careful. How…how did this happen?”   
“I haven’t found the cause yet.” He admitted. “At your last checkup you and the child both seemed perfectly healthy…I…I don’t believe there was any natural reason for this to happen.” He stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears. “And I will find out who did this. I promise you. Hawke and I, we’ll hunt them down.”   
“Where’s Alistair?”   
“He’s outside. Fiona’s with him.”  
“Does he know?” Anders nodded.   
“Yes, he uh…when I told him I suspected something other than natural causes he gave me permission to examine the child before cremation.”   
“Good. If you could send him in? I’d like to talk to my husband.”   
“Of course.” 

The look on Alistair’s face was the same one she’d seen after Ostagar, outside of Flemeth’s hut. His eyes were red rimmed, and tear stains ran down either cheek.   
“Ali…”   
“Thank the Maker.” He moved so that his arms were around her, pressing her against his chest. ”I thought I was going to lose you.” He kissed the top of her head.   
“I’m alright Alistair.” She told him softly, pressing her hands against his chest to gently push him away.   
“Erica…?” he tilted his head down to look at her.   
“I lost him…” She whispered. “Our son is dead Alistair.”   
“I know, but it wasn’t your fault, Anders…”  
“Anders might be wrong!” She screamed, causing him to take a step back. “And even if he’s not… I. Lost. Our. Son. Even if someone else is responsible, our baby is dead Alistair, he’s gone, he’s never coming back!” Alistair reached to wipe the tears from her eyes but she turned her head so that his fingers only brushed against her cheek. “Don’t.”   
“Erica…”   
“This is what they warned you about when you married me, and they were right all along.”  
“No they weren’t…Erica, listen to me…” He took her hand. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do this.” She pulled her hand free.   
“Don’t.” He reached for her hand again. “Don’t touch me!”   
“Erica…”   
“…I can’t…” She shook her head. “I want you to take a mistress.” Alistair’s eyes widened.  
“What?”   
“We have Duncan as an heir but you know that doesn’t mean anything, look at Cailan, if anything were to happen…it would mean civil war.”   
“So you’re asking me to father a bastard ‘just in case’? Make some woman carry my child so we’ll have a ‘spare’?”   
“For the good of our country, yes.”   
“No.” He shook his head, backing away. “You’re just upset. You don’t mean this.”   
“It’s the same as with Morrigan.”   
“Which I also didn’t want to do. There is no need for me to…” He shuddered. “You’re just upset…”   
“Alistair…” She sighed. He shook his head, returning to her side.   
“If Duncan is the only child we have, that’s more than I ever expected.” He kissed her cheek; she stiffened but didn’t move away. “I promised to only be with you for the rest of our lives Erica, I made a vow.”   
“I gave you my permission.”   
“That…” he sighed. “Anders said you needed to rest, to get better.” He guided her so that she was lying down again. He pulled the covers up. “We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.” Brushing a hand over her hair he got up and left the room, pausing outside the door when he heard her crying.

Every instinct told him to hold her and yet she pushed him away. He was hurting too and yet she suggested THAT. He sighed, it wouldn’t be fair. Not to Erica, not to whomever his mistress might be, not to any child to come from it. He headed down the hallway to where the second nursery was supposed to be. The room had been stripped, the furniture removed and instead of joy and excitement he felt nothing but dread.   
“Alistair?” He was jerked from his thoughts by a familiar elven voice. He turned to see Fiona standing in the doorway.  
“Mother.” He nodded in acknowledgement. She crossed the room to him.   
“I’m sorry mon petit.” Fiona told him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He sighed and leaned into her touch.  
“I don’t know what to do. Erica can hardly look at me and she wants me to…” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter, I won’t.”   
“You and Erica will overcome this; you’ve faced much worse before.”   
“I hope you’re right.”


	3. Chapter 3

She moved in to her private chamber, seeing Alistair only at formal occasions and avoiding Duncan entirely. Each time she looked at either of them she felt an ache deep within her chest. It only got worse after the funeral, watching her son’s ashes scattered to the wind. Teagan and her other advisors had only backed off after she’d threatened them with her daggers, but at least they no long demanded her attention.   
Now she walked through the garden, the sunshine warmed her skin but only made her feel the icy grip of grief that clung to the core of her very being. Anders had determined a poison but had been unable to identify it, he was now waiting for an expert to arrive from Antiva and Erica had hired another personal taster for herself and Alistair. She’d also launched an investigation of all her kitchen staff, this accident would not happen again. With her head of security managing everything related to the miscarriage she turned her attention towards the future of Fereldan.   
Erica had made it her personal mission to hire the most beautiful of her country’s noble daughters as her ladies-in-waiting. She encouraged them to wear gowns cut in the Antivan style, which dipped lower to show off their pale breasts. She taught them how to style their hair, how to use their wit and charm to catch the eye of any suitor and then she released them to frolic under Alistair’s nose. Of course he figured out her plan, he knew her well, and had turned down every advance from the young women at court.   
At least he had so far, but as her frustration mounted so did his and she knew it was only a matter of time. Part of her felt guilty, here was a man incredibly loyal to her and still she threw temptation in his face, begging him to give in. He needed heirs, and though Anders had promised her no permanent damage had been done to her body she wasn’t prepared for another pregnancy.   
“How dare you!” Fiona’s voice accused from behind her. Erica turned towards the elf, cool mask of composure set in her features.   
“Can I help you Grand Enchanter?” She asked.  
“Don’t play your court games with me, your majesty; I mastered them long before you were but a twinkle in Bryce Cousland’s eye.”   
“I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
“Really? No idea? Then it wasn’t you who invited the newest batch of painted dolls to court?”   
“Noble families wish to have their daughters educated at court, so that possible marriages can be found for them. Of course they are young and beautiful.”  
“You do nothing as they flaunt themselves in front of your husband.”  
“Alistair is still young, and has always been handsome; those reasons aside he has a crown that dazzles many a noble lady. I am not surprised that they long for his attention.” She tried for a casual shrug and Fiona’s eyes narrowed.   
“Do you not see how cruel you are being to him?”  
“I’m the cruel one? I am trying to do what is best for my country, Grand Enchanter.”  
“And what about what is best for Alistair?” Erica twisted a loose curl around her finger.   
“I suspect, as his mother, that would be your job, you’ve done such a good job in the past after all.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed back into the palace.

She wasn’t surprised to find out Anders’ Antivan poison expert was Zevran. She was however, surprised to see him traveling with another elf, a little girl about 6 years old, even more shockingly; Erica quickly learnt that this child was Zevran’s daughter.   
“I have to admit Zev; I never pictured you as a parent.”  
“Nor did I, mi Reina, but…these things happen.” He gave a little shrug and a smile as they watched the girl chase after butterflies in the garden.   
“Who was her mother?” Erica asked.   
“A Dalish admirer of mine, I traveled with the clan for some time, she grew curious of my skills, which you can vouch for my dear Warden.” Erica blushed at the wink he gave her. “I expected that do be it, but she ended up with child. We were near Antiva city at that time and I knew if the Crows were to catch word…” He shook his head. “So we fled and Variel was born on a ship named the Siren’s Call somewhere in the middle of the Waking Sea. Her mother died a week later from childbed fever. She has been with me ever since.”  
“She’s a beautiful girl Zevran.” Variel had her father’s light blond hair but her eyes were a vivid emerald green, her skin was also considerably lighter.   
“Of course, with her father was there ever any doubt?” he gave a little chuckle as the child ran up to them, cradling something small in her hands.   
“Padre! Padre! Look what I caught!” She cheered. Zevran kneeled down as she parted her hands just far enough for a frog to stick his head out.   
“Ah my clever huntress,” He kissed the top of her head as he stood up again. “But perhaps you should let him go, no? Queen Erica will need his help to keep her roses blooming.” Variel tilted her head.   
“How does he help with the roses Padre?” she asked as she bent down to release her quarry and watched the frog hop off towards one of the garden’s many ponds. The elder elf picked her up, resting her against his hip.   
“Well Muñequita, frogs eat different insects, and some of those insects might harm the roses.” Variel’s eyes widened as he explained but then she smiled.   
“I’m glad I let him go then.” She told her father.   
“Si Niña, I am too.”

She took a deep breath before entering the nursery. Alistair was inside, on his knees as Duncan walked towards him. The child almost reached his father before he began falling forward. Luckily Alistair was there to catch him, picking him up and blowing on his stomach which resulted in an outbreak of giggling from the youngster.   
“Pretty soon he’ll be running laps around us.” Her voice caused Alistair to turn towards the doorway. His eyes widened for a moment before he frowned and looked away.  
“I didn’t expect you to be here.” His voice was so cold she shivered before moving towards him.   
“He’s still my son.” She replied, kneeling beside him. “Zevran identified what it was; unfortunately it’s fairly common so it doesn’t narrow it down any.” She sighed, smiling down at Duncan, who was still in his father’s arms. “Hello my little one, do you remember me?” Duncan blinked looking between her and Alistair before laughing and reaching his hand up to clutch the king’s chin. Erica felt herself go numb and a cold sweat trickled down her spine. Her hands gripped the carpet. She was vaguely aware of Alistair lifting Duncan into his crib and then returning to her.   
“He doesn’t fully understand questions Erica…” Alistair began. She nodded.   
“Of course.”  
“This doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who you are, but it’s been a couple months…he needs to get used to you again.”   
“Naturally…” He took her hand slowly.   
“Come on,” He got up, guiding her to her feet as well. “We need to talk anyway.”


	4. Chapter 4

Katherine Hawke was lying on the window seat, her head hanging off the edge and her feet were up against the brickwork. She was stretched out in a sunbeam contently, much like the animal Anders used for her pet name. She grinned up at him, the points of her canines pressing into her bottom lip, giving her a devious look.  
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, tilting his head. She nodded.  
“Mhm,” The corner of his mouth twitched and he ran his hand from her shoulder to her hip before sitting down beside her.  
“A letter came from Nate, apparently he and Bethany will be making their way through the city in the next couple of weeks.”  
“Bethy’s coming?” Hawke attempted to get up but ended up summersaulting off her perch landing on her knees with her arms up in the air in a perfect “Y”. “Oof! I mean ta da!”  
“Are you alright?”  
“Never better.” She crawled up on the seat next to him. “So did they say why they’re coming?”  
“They did,”  
“Will you tell me?”  
“Nope, under strict Warden orders. It clearly states ‘Don’t Tell Hawke’ bold letters and underlined.”  
“Maker…She’s pregnant.”  
“How did you…?”  
“I didn’t…” Hawke’s eyes widened. “Wait she actually is? I’m going to be an aunt?!”  
“Looks like it.” He smiled at her. She leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder.  
“My little sister is going to be a mother…” Hawke whispered. Anders wrapped an arm around her.  
“I thought you liked the idea of being Aunt Kitty?”  
“I do…”  
“Having second thoughts?” She shrugged.  
“Not about being an aunt…but kids…you want them.”  
“I want you to be happy more.”  
“But what about your happiness?”  
“Sweetheart, I have a beautiful fiancée, banquets nearly every evening, and no one wants to lock me up for the gifts I was born with, I couldn’t be happier.” He kissed her cheek. “But if you want to throw a couple practice rounds in, I’m not going to complain.” Anders nipped her ear and she giggled, swatting him away.  
“You’re worse than a mabari…” She shook her head fondly, “But I love you.” He took her hand, pressing it over his heart.  
“My favorite broken rule.”

 

  
Alistair led her to one of the private sitting rooms off his study.  
“Do you need anything?” he asked her softly, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She shook her head, giving him a shy smile.  
“No Alistair, I’m alright.” He nodded, guiding her to one of the many sofas, sitting down next to her.  
“It’s been months since we did this you know? Just sat in the same room together, months since we’ve touched…” he looked down at their hands. She sighed.  
“I…” He pressed a finger against her lips.  
“Shh…” He leaned in. “I had a speech planned.” He told her. She smirked.  
“Really?”  
“It was going to involve talking.”  
“Most do, I’m told.”  
“I’ve missed you.”  
“Your aim will improve.” He chuckled and kissed her. She allowed it for a moment and then pulled back. “Ali…” she looked away.  
“Don’t run from me Erica,” he pleaded. “Don’t run from me and don’t try to force someone else into your place.” Tears stung her eyes and her shoulders shook. “Please…I need you.”  
“Alistair…I…” She shook her head. “I can’t…”  
“Why not?”  
“I keep seeing it over and over again, I keep screaming, and there’s nothing I can do.”  
“You’re not to blame here.”  
“Did knowing that make it any easier for you?”  
“Of course not, but we’re going to find out who did this…”  
“And it won’t change a thing.” She met his eyes. “I don’t want justice. I don’t want revenge. I want my baby back. Just like I wanted my family back, and Duncan, and Riordan.” She wiped her eyes. “But nothing is going to bring them back. There’s nothing…and I can’t go through this again Alistair.”  
“You don’t have to.”  
“Yes I do. You deserve to have a palace filled with children, beautiful princes and princesses carrying on the Theirin name and I just…Alistair…” He pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry…I can’t…” She shook her head and pressed her face into his chest, letting her tears soak through the silk of his shirt. He held her as she murmured apologies against the fabric, stroking her back in small circles and whispering soothing words until her breathing slowed and exhaustion overtook her. Shifting her carefully, he positioned them so that they were both lying on the couch, her head resting above his heart. He stroked her cheek lightly, feeling the softness of her tear stained skin. Sighing, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  
“I love you Erica.” He whispered against her hair.

 

Fiona made her way down the corridors, checking in each room for Alistair. It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear for a few hours but with her return to the college growing nearer, he usually dedicated an hour or two for her. Sometimes they’d discuss politics, sometimes they discussed the past, and lately they’d been discussing his queen. Fiona owed the Cousland girl for reuniting them and she could not deny the love Alistair and his wife shared. She wasn’t pleased with the Queen’s new habit of parading each new batch of would-be mistresses though. When she reached the door of the sitting room and found it slightly ajar she poked her head in slowly. Her ears twitched in surprise as she took in the scene. Both of them seemed so much younger, the lines of worry all but removed from their sleeping faces. They clung to each other, not in a way that was overly restrictive but more in a way of assurance, they rested peacefully only when they were able to physically confirm each other’s presence. She smiled, and exited the room, making sure the door shut behind her. When she saw Teagan coming down the hall, searching the same way she had been, she stopped him.  
“The King and Queen do not wish to be disturbed.” She informed him. He blinked at her.  
“They’re together then?” She nodded and he gave a sigh of relief. “Thank the Maker, maybe this will stop those girls from trying to force their way into his chambers. I’ve had to increase our annual budget for door repairs.”  
“Perhaps we could take it out of the Queen’s staffing budget? I don’t think she’ll have need for so many attendants soon.”  
“Since she’ll no longer be throwing them at our King, I believe you’re right, shame though they did bring a certain…atmosphere to court.” Fiona raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head.  
“With the King in a much more fully committed marriage, are you hoping they’ll turn their attention your way?”  
“One can always hope Grand Enchanter.”


	5. Chapter 5

When she opened her eyes all she saw was blood, she felt it on her skin, in her mouth. She was choking on it, drowning in it. Suddenly before her she saw Alistair. He was in his ceremonial armor, a shining gold beacon, floating above the thick red liquid. She reached for him, but something tugged at her foot dragging her down.   
“Ali!” She screamed. The gaze that locked with her was icy.  
“This is all your fault.” He snapped. “You deserve this.” He turned away from her and her head went below the surface. She thrashed, fighting against the current, fighting against whatever unknown creature was dragging her down further and further. She couldn’t breathe.

He knew better than to touch her while the nightmare had her in its grip. So he lay beside her, calling her name until he was greeted to the sight of her brilliantly blue eyes.  
“Ali…” She breathed, still trembling. He pulled her against his chest, holding her until the shaking stopped.  
“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded.  
“And I thought the ones during the blight were bad.” Erica tried to joke. Alistair frowned, stroking her cheek.   
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“No.” She sat up slowly, turning so that her feet could touch the ground. When she stood, his hand reached out to grip hers.  
“Where are you going?” he asked. She nodded in the direction of the window, the twilight sky peeking through the red velvet curtains.   
“I was headed to the kitchens, I think we missed dinner. Afterwards I was going to retire to my room for the evening.” He nodded but didn’t let go of her hand. “Alistair?” She raised an eyebrow at him. He took a deep breath.   
“May I…that is…if I were to…” He closed his eyes, composing himself. “May I come to your bed tonight?” Erica looked away.  
“I think it would be best if you didn’t.” She told him.   
“Oh.” He stood, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Then I hope your dreams tonight are much more pleasant. Good night.” She tried to ignore the disappointment in his voice; the crushed look she knew was in his eyes. He exited the room and she sighed before doing the same, heading for the kitchens. 

Alistair looked up at the canopy; even though he’d adjusted to sleeping alone before, being with Erica today had made him notice the sheer size of his bed and the emptiness of it. He sighed, and turned over, wishing he could turn off the thoughts that kept plaguing him. He didn’t hear it at first, the knock that came from the private corridor. It connected his chambers with Erica’s and his heart gave a hopeful flutter at what such a late visit could mean. He got up quickly and opened the door, meeting her sheepish smile. She was wearing a light blue dressing gown and her hair hung in a single braid. She carried a basket and lifted it slowly in offering. He stepped to the side to allow her entry, closing the door again once she’d crossed the room to one of the chairs in front of the fire.   
“After we missed dinner…then the kitchen staff told me you hadn’t come down…I thought you might be hungry.” She seemed nervous. He moved behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.   
“Thank you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She blushed, her skin heating beneath his lips.   
“I also…when you asked earlier…” She turned to face him, untying her robe.   
“You don’t have to…” Alistair told her as she slipped it from her shoulders. She shook her head.  
“I want to be a good queen.” She looked up to meet his eyes as her nimble fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. As his skin was exposed she pressed kisses to his clavicle, lowering herself she trailed her mouth down his chest to his navel. Once she was on her knees she pressed her cheek against his hip, closing her eyes for a moment. He reached down to brush his fingers, against her cheek. She smiled, turning her head to kiss his palm. Then she tugged down his sleep pants and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him as he was sheathed in the warmth of her mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

She slipped out of bed silently, retrieving her robe and pulling it on. She then moved to the balcony doors, opening them and stepping out into the night. There was a chill in the air, and she pulled the fabric tighter around herself. Looking up at the moon she sighed, wiping away tears she refused to let fall. She shook her head, she was the Hero of Fereldan and here she stood crying because her husband had made love to her. The man she loved more than anything, the father of her sons…son…and that was it wasn’t it? Alistair didn’t blame her but others did. ‘The Queen’s Failure’ they called it. Had Eamon still lived she could only imagine what he’d have said. They’d never seen eye to eye, he’d put the crown on Alistair’s head to make him a puppet, she’d done it to make him her King. She looked back towards the bedroom. And King he was.   
Alistair hadn’t been asleep when she got up, and now he stood in the doorway watching her. Moonlight made her pale skin glow, almost pearlescent. Her sapphire eyes gleamed and the tears that clung to her cheeks shimmered like molten silverite. Her hair had come loose and the wind buffeted the curls against her neck. They stood silent, watching each other, before he moved towards her. His hand moved to cup her cheek and he could feel her trembling.   
“Erica?” She frowned and turned away from him. “Did I hurt you?” She shook her head. “What’s wrong?” She bit her lip and looked at the ground.   
“I don’t know.” She told him. “I just…” Slowly he took her hand, and she allowed him to intertwine their fingers.   
“Let’s go back inside.” She nodded and he led her back into their bedroom, shutting the door. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her on to his lap. She collected her hair to one side, combing through it with her fingers. After a moment, he shifted her so he could get up and retrieve her hair brush from her vanity. “May I?” She nodded and he sat behind her, moving the brush through the ends of her hair. She hummed and closed her eyes.   
“You always take such good care of me.”  
“You’re my wife.” He moved her hair to kiss her shoulder. “You’re my everything.”

Fiona looked down from over the pages her book, a soft smile on her lips. The Antivan’s daughter sat in front of the young prince, her hands covering her eyes.   
“Where are you Duncan?” Variel asked. The youngster gave a squawk and the elf dropped her hands. “There you are!” Duncan giggled and clapped his hands together. Then the toddler pushed himself up so he was standing, and waddled over to Fiona. When he reached her he grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the other child. “He does that sometimes with King Alistair, he wants you to play with us.” Fiona put her book down on the table.   
“I don’t suppose I can refuse a royal invitation.” She stood, and allowed Duncan to drag her to the center of the room.

The clouds of the morning parted allowing the sunshine to pour down as they rode. Their horses had easily outrun their escorts and though they tried not to get too far ahead the rush of freedom they felt had them both laughing until they were breathless. Alistair smiled at his wife as they circled back to join the others. Her hair had long since slipped free from its binding, leaving it to trail behind her. Her eyes shimmered with glee and the smile she had was infectious. She seemed younger, carefree even. It was such a change from the ghost who’d stood on his balcony the night before that he regretted not bringing the idea up sooner.   
“Maker’s breath you’re beautiful.” She blushed.   
“You’re not so bad yourself Ali.” She told him. They stopped the horses and he dismounted. On the ground he moved around to where she was still in the saddle. He offered her his hand.   
“My lady,” She rolled her eyes but chuckled. His hand moved to her waist and he lifted her off the animal.   
“Thank you.”   
“My pleasure.” His hands were still on her waist as they stood there, then he lifted one to stroke her cheek. She purred, nuzzling his palm.   
“I was thinking a bath might be a good idea when we get back to the palace…I might need someone to wash my back.” He smirked.   
“I would be honored.” He told her, and leaned down to press their lips together.

Alistair rested his head against the rim of the tub, allowing the warm water to soak his skin. He heard a content hum from the woman sharing the bath with him, and opened one of his eyes to peek at her. Erica almost matched his pose exactly, though both her eyes were open and she was smirking. Moving slowly, careful not spill any of the water, she straddled his lap. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she leaned down to kiss him. He hummed; his lips not the only thing twitching against her. She pulled back, eyes wide.  
“Again?” She teased.   
“The spirit is willing, just give me a moment or two, unfortunately we’re not wardens or teenagers anymore.” He nipped her shoulder, and she giggled.   
“You weren’t a teenager when we met.” She objected. “And under law neither was I.” she added. He rolled his eyes and moved his hands under the water to her hips.  
“Technicality. The point still stands…”  
“Does it?” She arched a brow, reaching her hand down to stroke him. He bit his lip and she laughed as his hips jerked, causing water to spill. “Don’t flood the place now.”   
“You are terrible.” He hissed.   
“That’s not what you usually say.”  
“Evil. Evil little temptress.” She hummed, kissing him.   
“You love it.” She whispered. “And I won’t argue with the results.” He bucked into her hand again.   
“Unless you want to explain to the maids how we ended up flooding the room I suggest we take this elsewhere.”  
“My pleasure.” 

“Mmm…” She hummed against his mouth. He chuckled, sucking gently on her bottom lip. She pulled back, flopping against the mattress, her hair spilled out over the pillows. He moved over her, enjoying the slide of soft skin. Her breath hitched as she felt him, hard against her thigh. She whimpered and rocked her hips against him. “Alistair…”  
“Shh…I’ve got you.” He whispered, lifting one of her legs to wrap around his waist. As he pushed inside her she arched her back, hissing at the fullness. “Maker…” he cursed, pressing his face into her shoulder. She tugged at his hair as he began to move. He groaned, but thin rim of gold in his pupil blown eyes told her it was in pleasure, not protest. She met each of his thrusts, adjusting the angle so he hit the spot that made the pool of heat in her belly contract.   
“Yes…” She threw her head back, exposing more of her throat. He nipped and sucked the skin, leaving marks that would be clearly visible to everyone the next morning. Unkingly perhaps but when it made her clench down on him, he couldn’t help but feel smug. Her breathing told him she was approaching her peak. He reached his hand down to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves just above where they were joined and when she gasped out his name he began chasing his own release. It didn’t take him long, his body stiffening as he filled her. Catching his breath he pulled out, moving to rest beside her. He watched as she grabbed a pillow, placing it under the small of her back so that her hips were angled upwards.   
“What’s that for?” He asked. She blushed.  
“Ah…Anders said that I’m more likely to… conceive this way.” Alistair’s eyes widened.   
“Are you sure about this?” He placed a hand over her stomach. She nodded, resting her hand on top of his.   
“Don’t worry Alistair, I’ll be alright.”


	7. Chapter 7

The next two months told her she was not carrying Alistair’s child. Bethany and Nathaniel had arrived and while she was happy for her friends, a bitter ache had formed a knot in her stomach as she watched the younger Hawke approach motherhood.   
She was in her study, skimming over wordy parchments filled with pleas from minor nobles asking her to help them deal with one petty squabble or another. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with here in the capital. For the love of Andraste couldn’t these people solve their own problems?! She thought angrily, dropping the letter and pushing her chair away from the desk, hearing the harsh sound of wood scraping against wood.   
“A bad time mi Reina?” Zevran asked from the doorway. He stood, holding a letter in his hand. She took a deep breath and shook her head.   
“No Zev, come in. You have news I take it?”   
“Si, Anders and I may have a lead on who caused the…unfortunate incident.” He stepped forward showing her the letter. “This came from somewhere in the Free Marches. You’ll notice the penmanship.”   
“That two faced little viper! Show this to Alistair. Now.”

“This is hardly conclusive evidence Erica.” He’s trying to be rational, which is a mark of how he’s matured she supposes but it also is her biggest annoyance.   
“I know her handwriting.” Erica argued, crossing her arms.  
“I’m not saying it isn’t her, just that this isn’t enough proof.” He sighed. “Besides, it’s been years, what would Anora have to gain now?”  
“The same thing she’s always wanted, the crown. We are in a weak position Alistair. If the Landsmeet were to find out about Fiona…it could mean revolution.”  
“Then let them have it, you know I never wanted this life.” He snapped.   
“Do you think Anora would be content to merely exile us? When she’s proven it can be used to launch a threat later?” Erica sighed, shaking her head. “They’d kill us. You, me, Duncan…”  
“Duncan is a child, they’d never…”  
“What do you think happened during the war with Orlais? That they left all the little babies asleep safe in their cribs? Or during the Blight? Duncan is heir to the throne, for his safety we can’t let her get away with this.”  
“We don’t know she’s done anything yet. She might be innocent Erica, she has her enemies too.”  
“I can’t believe you’re defending her.”  
“I’m not, I’m just trying to…”He shook his head. “We’ll send a raven to Leliana, will that appease you?”   
“It would help.” Erica told him, reaching her hand to push a stay hair from his eyes. “I’m just... if she were to hurt you or Duncan…” Alistair nodded and wrapped his arms around her.   
“She’ll never get the chance.” He promised her. 

Her left elbow ached with the chill in the air, a reminder that winter was coming to Skyhold. Amelia Trevelyan-Rutherford looked down at the nagging prosthetic and glared. It may have been crafted by the finest of Dwarven smiths but to her it was ugly and she kept it covered with a long glove. She was still scowling when her husband joined her on the balcony.   
“Is it hurting you?” He asked softly, touching the silk covering her forearm. She shook her head.  
“No more than usual, much less than the other one did.” She tried joking, but it rang hollow and Cullen’s mouth tightened. “Hey…” She lifted her hand to brush his cheek. He didn’t mind her touching him with it; in fact he encouraged her to. If he got used to it, maybe so would she. “I’m alright Cullen, just a little stiff, surely you can relate.”  
“Was that a remark about age, Lady Rutherford?” He smirked, and her eyes sparkled.   
“Perhaps Commander, I thought someone of your advanced years might be able to sympathize. Achy joints, stiff muscles…”  
“What was that? I think my hearing’s going.” He pulled her into his arms, making her giggle. He leaned down to kiss her and she moaned quietly against his lips, pushing herself tighter into his embrace. “Amelia?”  
“Care to show me the benefits of a more ‘experienced’ partner?” she teased. Cullen gave a low growl and nipped at her ear.  
“My pleasure.” 

Erica sat on the edge of the examination table, her feet dangling an inch or two above the floor.  
“What if I don’t get pregnant Anders?” she asked the mage. He paused his inspection and met her eyes.  
“Every woman’s fertility rate is different Erica, Queen Rowan only had one son and the people still hold love and respect for her.”  
“And then her son died and was strung up by the Darkspawn and left to rot while the country launched itself into civil war.” Erica protested.   
“Queen Moria only had one son.”  
“Well Queen Erica is determined to have as many as possible, is there anything you can do? Some fertility spell or…” She bit her lip. “Or some tea or root or just…” He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.   
“It will happen Erica. You and Alistair are both healthy and young enough to have several more children together. The stress of trying to force things is only going to make things worse.” She nodded and he smiled, moving to his desk to retrieve a rather large book. “This has a list of methods to try, perhaps they’ll help things go smoother.” She nodded.  
“Thank you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Fiona was surprised and more than a little annoyed to see another new group of young women following after her son like a flock of sheep. The look of utter mortification on Alistair’s face as he passed told her exactly how he felt about it. With a sigh she waved her hand and caused a few harmless sparks to go off in front of the flocking females. They immediately backtracked, stumbling over each other and letting out more than a couple surprised shrieks as they retreated down the hall.  
“Was that really necessary Grand Enchanter?” Teagan asked from the other side of Alistair, having just exited from the study.   
“Maybe that will remind them that their king is married.” She argued. “Besides, they were posing a security threat; you’ll want to talk with the guards about that.” She smirked at Alistair, who was leaning against the door jam, laughing. Teagan shook his head and looked up at the ceiling.   
“Maker help you both…” he sighed, turning around and walking back into the study.   
“We’re going to make him pull his hair out.” Alistair told her once he’d regained his breath. She stroked her son’s cheek.   
“It was worth it to hear them screech though, non?” He nodded, chuckling.   
“Completely.” Alistair agreed, beaming at her with his Father’s smile. Fiona tapped his cheek affectionately.  
“You go deal with Tegan, I have some words for your wife.” His brows knit together slightly.   
“Don’t be too harsh on Erica, she does mean well you know.” Fiona nodded.  
“Girl’s got an interesting way of showing it, but yes, I know. I’ll be gentle, no fire.” With that she headed down the hallway. 

Erica kneeled before the statue of Andraste. The Chantry was empty and only a few flickering candles stood in the darkness.  
“Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me…” She whispered her voice breaking. “In the long hours of the night when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know; Your Light remains.”  
“I forget sometimes that you’re also carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Alistair’s voice coming from the doorway made her turn her head. He walked up the aisle, moving to kneel next to her. She smiled, before bowing her head again.   
“I have heard the sound, a song in the stillness, the echo of Your voice, calling creation to wake from its slumber.” They whispered in unison.   
“Did my mother get a chance to speak with you?”  
“She did, something about too many mistresses…hmm sounds like an Orlesian children’s book.” She chuckled.  
“It does, but she’s right you know.”  
“I can’t just send them back Alistair,” She told him before sighing. “Can we not do this here, please.” He looked around the room and nodded.   
“I’ll be in our chambers.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he stood and left.

Two arms encircled her waist and a head rested on her shoulder as Hawke stood at the table, pouring herself a glass of wine.   
“You’ve been very affectionate lately.” She observed, taking a sip offering him the glass. Anders shook his head and she put her drink down.  
“I keep thinking about our previous discussion.” One of his hands brushed against her still very flat stomach. “Which reminds me, you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”  
“I’m not pregnant yet Anders.”   
“We don’t know that, it might just be too early to tell.”  
“Well if I am, then we can stop trying right?” She smirked and he nipped her ear.   
“And you might not be which means I’m losing precious moments of your brief fertility period and we’ll need to try more, very, very soon.”  
“How soon?” She teased, grinding back against him. He landed a swat to her rear making her yelp and then burst into a giggle fit. “Impatient are we?” she wiggled against the hand still on her backside and he began lifting up the robe she was wearing.  
“Very,” he hissed.   
“Bedroom?” she asked with a wicked grin. “Or…?” She drained her glass and shifted so her upper body rested against the table. She heard him groan and suddenly his fingers were stroking between her thighs.   
“Bedroom, I don’t want anyone interrupting us.” She pouted, but nodded as she stood and dragged him to their room.


	9. Chapter 9

She pushed the door open slowly, her sapphire eyes scanning the room before she found him, sitting in one of the chairs near the fire. Alistair looked up as she entered, patting his knee. Erica smiled and moved to sit on his lap, he wrapped an arm around her waist.  
“You’re a very difficult woman to be upset with you know.” He told her.  
“I’m a difficult woman in general.” She answered. He gave a rather undignified snort and shook his head. She turned so that her upper body faced him, placing her hands on either of his cheeks. He reached up so his fingers wrapped around her wrists, his thumbs stroking her opisthenar. Erica leaned in and pressed her mouth against his, closing her eyes. She heard him groan as their tongues met, and pushed herself tighter to his chest. He tilted his head back, parting them, looking up at her through heavy lidded eyes.  
“See that? Very difficult, and distracting and…” She nipped at his ear, making his breath hitch. “Maker…”  
“You wanted to talk?” She asked, nuzzling against his neck. Alistair nodded.  
“I did.” He took her hands in each of his. “I’m worried about you.” She rolled her eyes and looked away. “Hey…” He brought a hand under her chin and made her meet his eyes. “I’m serious.”  
“I’m fine Alistair.” She told him, moving her head from his grip and frowning.  
“When’s the last time you went to visit Duncan?” She froze. “Was it when I was there?” She turned to face him and nodded. “Erica…” He dropped his hand to her stomach. “And you want another one?” She bit her lip and blinked tears away before shaking her head.  
“I…” She sobbed. He reached out to cup her cheek. She moved backwards. “Don’t touch me.”  
“Erica…”  
“Don’t touch me!” She screamed, standing up. “I can’t do this Alistair, I…I can’t…I have to…” She headed for the door, letting it slam behind her as she raced to her private chambers. She heard Alistair behind her and screamed when his hand pulled her arm around so that it pressed into her chest when he pinned her between himself and the wall. “Let go of me!”  
“Stop running from me!” She could feel his chest heaving and while his grip was firm it wasn’t punishing. She felt her body instinctively relax, and he used his nose to prod under her chin, panting against her skin. “Let me help you.” He pleaded.  
“You can’t.” She whispered. He sighed and began pressing kisses to her neck.  
“Erica…” She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. She sobbed as his lips peppered her skin. “Please…” he begged. “Please…”

Variel held Duncan’s hand as he dragged her down the hallway.  
“Where are we going?” He squawked at her in baby talk. “Right…you need to work on that communication thing, Padre says it’s important.” He squawked again. “Alright, alright…” They made their way to a fork in the hall and then she heard the sound of someone crying. Duncan blinked up at her, babbling in his own language. “You want to check it out?” He nodded. “Well you’re the boss.” They entered the intersecting hallway to find the King and Queen. Erica had slid down the wall so that she sat with her back to it. Alistair’s head was resting on her shoulder as he kneeled beside her, whispering soothingly. Duncan pulled free of Variel’s grip, as the elf had frozen in place, and was running towards his parents. He reached the queen’s side and she blinked down at him. With all the pride he could muster Duncan reached out to place his hand to her chest and said his first word.  
“Mama.”

Erica blinked down at the tiny palm resting against her sternum, before wrapping her hand around Duncan’s. She lifted his fingers to her lips, kissing each tip softly. The child giggled.  
“Mama!” he cheered. She nodded, closing her eyes as a fresh wave of tears poured down her cheeks.  
“Yes, yes Duncan.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “I’m your Mama.” She kissed his forehead and he giggled. From the corner of her eye she saw Variel bow and turn back towards the main hall, giving the royal family a moment of privacy. Alistair lifted his head from her shoulder and smiled at Duncan, running a hand through the boy’s strawberry blond curls.  
“Ar lath ma Da’len.” He leaned in to kiss Duncan’s cheek. The boy smiled and waved a hand at his father.  
“Fiona’s been teaching you Elvish?” Erica asked her husband, placing Duncan on her lap. Alistair nodded.  
“It’s gone much better than Orlesian.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly before he sighed. “Erica.” He took her hand, looking into her eyes. “ne'emma lath.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“You are my love.” He wrapped an arm around her and Duncan. “And you are.”  
“Alistair…” She looked down at their son, who was keeping himself entertained by trying to remove one of his socks. “I’m sorry…”  
“You will get better.” He promised her. “And no matter how long, I will always be here.” He kissed her wedding ring. “And…” Alistair paused. “I will do whatever it takes for you to get well.”  
“You mean?”  
“If you need me to.” Erica lifted her hand to cup his chin and leaned in so that their lips brushed against each other.  
“Ar lath ma, my King.” She whispered, kissing him. Alistair sighed happily against her mouth.  
“I love you too.”

The palace in Denerim was much smaller and less ornate than anything he’d seen in Orlais but it was sturdy, much like the rest of the buildings in Fereldan. The palace had been made to double as a fortress if it needed to, a stronghold for the royal family. Its stone protected the Theirin line, the blood of Calenhad, the red liquid that pumped through his own veins. His mother would know of course, and she would come looking for him. Part of him felt guilty for running off and leaving her to worry but he needed to see the man who’d sired him at least once, surely his mother would understand. He only wished to know of this ‘good man’ the one who’d fathered him. Fear crept into the back of his mind then, what would the great King think of him? What would the legendary Alistair Theirin think of a skinny 15 year old? He took a deep breath and shifted to the form of a raven, the way his mother had taught him, and flew over the walls surrounding the palace. At least at the end of this, he’d know for sure.


	10. Chapter 10

Alistair stood in the nursery, Duncan in his arms.  
“Your mother loves you, you know?” He whispered. “Just like I do.” Duncan babbled, reaching for his father’s nose. “Hey…” he took his son’s tiny hand and pressed it to his cheek. “You can’t keep stealing that.” Duncan giggled. Alistair smiled and kissed his son’s forehead before sighing. “You helped a lot today, I’m not sure if I could have gotten through to her. Like I said, she loves you, she’s just…sick right now, but she’ll get better…soon I hope.” Duncan blinked up at his father, emerald eyes wide with wonder.  
Slowly Alistair carried the child over to the ancient rocking chair that stood next to the crib, sighing as he sank into the cushion. This had become their tradition ever since Erica had relocated herself to her quarters on the other side of the palace. He hummed softly, a lullaby Zevran told him had worked for Variel when she was younger.  
“Elgara vallas, da'len…” he began, Duncan already beginning to settle down, resting his head contently against his father’s chest. Alistair started again.  
“Elgara vallas, da'len  
Melava somniar,  
Mala taren aravas,  
Ara ma'desen melar  
Iras ma ghilas, da'len  
Ara ma'nedan ashir  
Dirthara lothlenan'as  
Bal emma mala dir  
Tel'enfenim, da'len  
Irassal ma ghilas  
Ma garas mir renan  
Ara ma'athlan vhenas  
Ara ma'athlan vhenas.”  
Duncan’s eyes were closed, and he snored softly as Alistair rocked him. The king smiled down at his son, stroking his cheek gently with his thumb. When Duncan realized the singing had stopped however, he tapped his hand against Alistair’s chest as if to say ‘More’. Alistair laughed. “Demanding little thing aren’t you?” he teased, but went back to humming.  
“Sun sets, little one,  
Time to dream  
Your mind journeys,  
But I will hold you here.  
Where will you go, little one  
Lost to me in sleep?  
Seek truth in a forgotten land  
Deep with in your heart.  
Never fear, little one,  
Wherever you shall go.  
Follow my voice--  
I will call you home.  
I will call you home.”  
Now Duncan was fully asleep and Alistair felt his own eyelids growing heavy, he was about to fall asleep himself when the window behind them shattered. He stood up quickly, Duncan waking with a high pitched wail of protest. The cries woke the teenager who’d apparently fallen through the glass, though how he’d reached the window Alistair hadn’t a clue. Shifting Duncan so that Alistair had his sword hand free, he drew the blade, pointing it under the chin of the newcomer. This forced the boy to look at him, and when Alistair met the familiar golden eyes, his jaw (and sword) dropped.

Hawke woke up screaming. She heard Anders shift next to her as he sat up.  
“Katherine?” He asked groggily. His hand moved to her shoulder and she reached across her chest to rest her fingers on top of his.  
“Just a dream.” She assured him. In the darkness she could only just make out the movement of his nod and then his arms looped around her, pulling her to his chest as they lay down again. He stroked her hair.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I…Carver…” she answered, “and my mother…even Bethany…I couldn’t…” She sniffed.  
“Shh…” He kissed her forehead. “You weren’t responsible for any of that…you know that.”  
“But if we were to…” She pulled his hand to her stomach to get her point across. He sighed and intertwined their fingers.  
“Katherine…” He began but she interrupted him by pressing their lips together. He blinked, and pulled back. “What was that?”  
“I just…you’re going to tell me none of it’s my fault, that I don’t have to worry, or that we all do things we regret, lose people we love and I just…I can’t believe that right now.” She moved to straddle him, thanking the Maker that neither of them wore clothing to bed. He groaned as his hands moved to her hips.  
“Kitty…”  
“Please Anders?” She begged, leaning down to nip at his neck. “Remind me that we’re alive.” He nodded and rolled so that she was beneath him.  
“But in the morning, we will talk.”  
“In the morning.” She promised and then their heavy breathing was the only noise. 

Alistair looked across the table, still partly in shock. The boy, Kieran, His SON, for the love of Andraste, sat with his head down, looking at his hands. Duncan sat on Alistair’s lap, looking back and forth between his father and elder brother, squawking in confusion. Alistair smoothed the toddler’s hair trying to quiet him. Duncan pouted and grumbled in baby talk.  
Then Erica entered. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a tight bun with two small tendrils kissing her cheekbones. She must have come from the training grounds though, because instead of a gown she wore a royal blue tunic which had her symbol embroidered on the back, the Theirin lion and a Griffon encircled in the Cousland laurels. Leather breaches clung to her long legs and thick boots encased her from toe to knee. Her daggers were strapped to her back, but fully within reach if she needed them. Her bright sapphire eyes scanned the room and she raised an eyebrow, looking between her husband, son and other boy.  
“Your Majesty.” The teen greeted, bowing his head further.  
“Mama!” Duncan cheered at her. She gave him a small smile and went to retrieve him from Alistair, cradling him against her hip.  
“You’ll find I care very little for titles.” She told Kieran. “Erica will do, or stepmother, if you prefer.”  
“Then you know…”  
“I exchanged correspondence with the Lady Inquisitor; she mentioned you and your mother in one of her letters. Does Morrigan know you’re here?” Kieran shook his head. “Then she’s probably worried sick.”  
“I…I should send a letter…” She heard Alistair say and then he left, ignoring the frown she gave his retreating back. Kieran’s shoulders slumped and he tried to make himself appear smaller.  
“I made a mistake coming here, didn’t I?” he asked her. Erica gave a thoughtful hum.  
“You caught us all a bit by surprise.” She answered.  
“I didn’t mean to…intrude…I was just watching…I was going to leave but…” Erica moved around the table to rest her hand on his shoulder.  
“It’s alright, let’s get you settled in for the night and try to contact Morrigan, shall we?” He nodded and stood. She smiled and led him towards the guest chambers, planning to have a talk with her husband about the events of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby is "Mir Da'len Somniar" and can be found in the second World of Thedas book. There is also a lovely video on Youtube of it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zl3CmzQY1So&index=15&list=PL0uEC6jUr85cBQTDlYaCCtyJvwh3pOCmF


	11. Chapter 11

She stepped through the bedchamber to the open balcony doors, catching sight of her husband. She put Duncan in the crib they’d moved into their shared room and ignored his protests as she left to confront Alistair. He stood with his back to her, one hand clutching the railing in a white knuckle grip, the other wrapped around an oversized goblet which he continually brought to his lips.   
“That went well.” She snapped, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.   
“Not now Erica.” He warned her. His voice was harsher than she was used to, the edges curling into a near growl. Her eyes narrowed and she moved around him, grabbing the goblet and pouring its contents on the marble floor.   
“Yes now.” She argued. He glared, turning his head away.  
“What do you want me to do?”  
“What would you want Maric to say to you, if he were to return?” she asked. Alistair blinked.  
“Erica…”  
“Kieran is your son Alistair, just like Duncan is.” She sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, anger forgotten for the moment.  
“That’s different…I love you, Duncan is a symbol of that. What happened between Morrigan and I…I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t…”   
“But are you going to punish him for it?” She took a step closer. “He’s just a boy.”  
“He’s got the soul of an Archdemon.”  
“He’s a teenager who just wants to know who his father is.” She looped her arms around his neck. “A good man.” She leaned up on her tiptoes to press their mouths together, tasting the wine on Alistair’s lips. He sighed against her and closed his eyes, relaxing into her kiss. Slowly he pulled back, resting their foreheads together.  
“What would I do without you?”  
“Hide out here on the balcony until winter came probably.” She teased. “I said you were a good man, not a perfect one.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “I love you.”  
“I love you too.” He whispered. 

 

Variel tiptoed through the corridors silently. Her bright eyes peeked through doorways and her sensitive ears picked up the quietest of breaths. She wasn’t quite as stealthy as her father or her Aunt Lily, but she easily snuck up on her unsuspecting quarry.   
“You’re new.” She stated from the foot of the bed. Kieran jerked up, not expecting company.   
“Who…?!”   
“I am Variel Arainai, daughter of Dark Shadow the slayer of Antivan Crows.” She flashed him a brilliant smile and gave a small bow. “But you can call me Variel, everyone does, except Duncan but we’re working on that.”  
“My name is Kieran….why are you in my room?”   
“For the purpose of gathering intelligence.” She pulled an apple from the pack she had strapped to her back. She rubbed it clean on her tunic before offering it to him. Kieran shook his head. Variel shrugged and took a bite. “Like I said, you’re new.”  
“So you want to know about me, why?” He pulled his knees up, giving her room to sit down. She smiled and did so, her feet hanging a couple inches off the floor.  
“I was in the kitchens earlier, King Alistair needs to improve the lock on his cheese pantry, anyway I overheard one of the servants say that they heard the Queen ask you to call her your stepmother so that means you must be King Alistair’s son which makes you a prince like Duncan.”  
“I’m not a prince.”  
“But King Alistair is your Padre, yes?”  
“That’s…complicated, besides I don’t think he wants me hanging around too much longer, he and my mother…didn’t really get along.”   
“Who is your mother?”   
“How familiar are you with the tale of the Warden?”   
“My Padre’s read it to me over a hundred times.” She told him, swinging her legs. “But I think he left out some parts.”  
“Then you know of Morrigan?” Variel nodded quickly.   
“The Witch of the Wilds? She’s my favorite! Next to Padre of course…then it’s Queen Erica and King Alistair and Aunt Lily and…” Kieran smiled at her excitement.  
“My mother is Morrigan.” Variel turned to him, her eyes wide.  
“That’s so cool! Can you do magic too?!” Kieran nodded.  
“Some, would you like to see?” Variel’s head bobbed so quickly Kieran worried she might shake it loose. “Alright, be very still.” He brought his hand in front of her, palm up. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes. Suddenly in the center of his palm a tiny flame appeared. Variel watched, fascinated as the fire grew larger, casting a warm glow over the room. It began to form different shapes, a rose, a sword, a dragon and then Kieran extinguished it, leaving nothing but a puff of smoke.  
“Wow…” She whispered, completely awestruck. Kieran opened his eyes and smiled at her.   
“This is very simple magic, you should see what my mother can do.”  
“Will she come here?” Variel asked him.   
“She might, his Majesty was supposed to send her a letter, I don’t think she’ll stay long though.”  
“Does that mean you won’t be staying long either?” Variel asked softly. Kieran bit his lip.  
“That will depend on the king, I don’t think he likes me very much.”  
“But you’re his son, trust me, he loves you.”  
“You sound so sure.”  
“King Alistair is a good Padre, and all good parents love their children, you’ll see.” She took his hand. “Besides you’re really cool Kieran, he might even share cheese with you.” He smiled.  
“Thanks.”  
“You’re most welcome, your highness.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only speak English fluently, everything else is google translate.

Kieran spent most of his time over the next few days in the library. It was quiet, nearly empty and far away from most of the court activity. It also housed a large collection of books that he could get lost in, which is what he was currently doing, the large dust covered tome shielding him from onlookers.   
“Kieran.” Most onlookers. Quickly he got to his feet and bowed his head before the king.  
“Your Majesty.” Alistair placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder.  
“You…you don’t have to call me by my title you know…” He said softly. Kieran blinked, looking into the monarch’s eyes. He gave a small nod. “If you’ll come with me…I hoped we might be able to talk.”  
“Of course.” Kieran answered, marking his place with the thick ribbon attached to the book’s spine, closing it and placing it on a nearby table. Slowly he followed his father out of the room.  
“I wanted to apologize for how I reacted when you first arrived.” Alistair told him as they walked side by side down the hall.   
“I did fall through a window right in front of you.”  
“Yes, your mother should have warned you about swooping.”   
“Swooping is bad?” Kieran asked with a teasing grin. Alistair blinked and matched his smile, swinging an arm over Kieran’s shoulders.   
“Swooping is bad.” He chuckled.

The roses still bloomed in the garden though it was growing later into summer. Anders smiled at his stoic companion as they trailed behind Hawke and Bethany.   
“Who would’ve thought we’d be marrying sisters?” he asked.   
“I’m sure it’s one of the possibilities you and the Commander came up with.”  
“There were a lot,” Anders admitted. “Still, from bothers in arms to brothers-in-law, the Maker has a sense of humor.”  
“That he does.” Nathaniel agreed as the two women ahead of them stopped, each finding a spot on one of the path’s stone benches. Katherine leaned back, her hands gripping the underside of her seat so she didn’t fall over, while Bethany laughed at something her elder sister had said. Anders smiled, moving behind his fiancée and leaning down to plant a kiss on her lips. She smirked and raised a hand to his cheek, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Bethany rolled her eyes and moved over slightly so Nathaniel could sit next to her. His hand moved over her slightly swollen stomach, at four months she was only just starting to show. From the hood of Anders’ robes Ser Pounce a Lot stuck out his head, giving a slightly irritated meow at his master’s folded position. Hawke gave a small chuckle.   
“This is perfect.” She whispered. Anders nodded, shifting so his position mirrored Nathaniel’s.   
“Or very close.” He answered, nipping her ear. She pushed him away gently.   
“Easy Tiger, we’ve got company.” She reminded him. He gave a small pout and kissed her forehead.   
“As you command, Champion.”

Erica sat with Duncan on her lap while she read over different letters.  
“Varric says your Uncle Cullen and Aunt Amelia are expecting triplets, I feel sorry for anyone still stuck at Skyhold, those babies are going to be a handful.”   
“Gwa!” Duncan babbled. Erica pressed a kiss to his forehead, smoothing the tuft of strawberry blond curls that sprouted there.   
“Oh you were a handful too, trust me.” She teased. “A wonderful little handful.”  
“Mama.” He cooed, nuzzling against her. Erica smiled, humming and rocking him gently.  
“Such a love, just like your Da,” She blew a raspberry against his stomach making Duncan giggle. “My little charmer, I love you.” Duncan swatted her away bashfully, tugging at one of his socks. “A charmer and a scamp, keep those on…” She grabbed his hand lightly to keep him from removing his foot covering. “What am I going to do with you.” She shook her head. He looked up at her, reaching his arms up. She sighed and nuzzled his forehead, he hummed, closing his eyes.  
“Mama.” 

Variel sat on the ottoman as her father ran a brush through her light blonde hair. She hummed, swinging her legs happily.   
“Padre?” She asked.   
“Si, niña?” he answered, separating her corn silk tresses and beginning to braid.   
“What was Madre like?” Zevran hummed in thought, picking up one of the leather hair ties he had piled on the table.   
“You already know,”   
“I know, but I like it when you tell me about her.” Variel told him as he picked up the brush again, smoothing another section.   
“Your mother was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had sparkling emerald eyes just like you. Her vallaslin highlighted her delicate cheekbones and brought out the pink every time she blushed.” He finished the second braid, crossing it with the first. “She was clever, and there was no better hunter in the clan.”   
“And it was love at first sight.”   
“Just so.” He stood up. “I loved your mother very much, and I miss her greatly but then I remember she gave me the most priceless of gifts.”   
“What gift was that Padre?” Variel asked. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.   
“She gave me you.”   
“Te quiero, Padre”  
“Te quiero,” He pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly. Variel grinned and returned his hug.   
“Always?”   
“Always and forever, I promise you.” He patted her back. “Now let us go see how many frogs you can find in Queen Erica’s garden, yes?” She nodded, taking his hand and tugging him out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

Variel lay sideways across Kieran’s bed, a bored sigh escaping her lips. She looked up when he entered, a squirming mabari puppy in his arms.  
“He gave you a dog?” She teased, getting up and petting the canine’s ears. “And you were worried he didn’t like you.” Kieran smiled at her shyly and let the pup down. Immediately she began sniffing the room before sitting in the middle of his rug and barking at him happily. “What are you going to call her?” Variel asked.  
“I was thinking Nymeria.” The mabari wagged her tail. “I think she likes it.”  
“It’s pretty.” Variel agreed. “Come on let’s take her for a walk in the gardens.” With that Variel took his hand and led him out of the room, Nymeria following them, barking excitedly. 

Erica smirked from the balcony as she watched the youngsters play below. She hummed as Alistair’s arms encircled her waist as he moved to stand behind her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before resting his chin on the top of her head.  
“You got him a dog…” She shook her head fondly. Alistair shrugged.   
“He’s old enough, it’s tradition for Fereldan nobility to have a mabari, you know that.”  
“You gave him a puppy…Morrigan’s going to turn you into a toad.”   
“In that case…” He leaned down to kiss her. “There, pre-emptive measures have been taken.” Erica laughed, rubbing their noses together. “He just seemed...lonely,”   
“You have a notoriously guilty conscience.”   
“I knew what was being done that night, I knew it meant fathering a child…I just…I never really thought beyond the chance to save our lives…I never realized that that child…would become a person. I know that sounds foolish, obviously children grow up but…”   
“It’s not foolish Alistair,”   
“I just wish that I could have been there for him, like a good father should have been.”  
“Like Maric should have been there for you.” Erica said quietly. Alistair tensed before he nodded. Erica turned to face him.   
“You would have been there if you could, and I think he knows that.”  
“I hope so.” Alistair whispered against her hair. 

Her study wasn’t a war room but it certainly functioned as such.  
“So we’re sure it was Anora?” Erica asked the spymistress. Leliana nodded.  
“My informants don’t lie.”  
“Then I’ll have to tell Alistair,” She sighed, shaking her head. “Something will have to be done.”  
“Perhaps our dear Zevran will take care of that?” Leliana nodded towards the elf. He shrugged.  
“It is what I do after all.”  
“Alistair first, then we’ll discuss options. Meeting adjourned.” Erica sighed and pushed her chair away from her desk. She got up and headed for the door, pushing it open. Alistair would still be in meetings for another hour or more. She ran a hand over her face and called for one of the maids to prepare a bath. Hopefully the warm water would help her think of what to say. 

“Well isn’t this a pleasant sight.” Erica tilted her head back against the rim of the tub, meeting Alistair’s eyes as he entered the room. He kneeled next to the tub, leaning down so he could press their lips together. She hummed before turning her head.   
“We need to talk.” Alistair frowned.   
“That is never a sentence I like hearing you say, what’s wrong?”  
“Leliana’s sources confirmed Anora, we need something more than exile, she can’t be allowed to strike again.”   
“I know.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’d just hoped for different.” Erica nodded, nuzzling against him.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll send Zevran to…” Alistair gave a firm nod and kissed her cheek. “Ali?”  
“I’m never going to be happy about you employing Zev’s services but I want her dealt with. If she’s going to commit treason, she’s also going to answer for it. Just like her father.” 

Hawke retched into the wastebasket though her stomach had long since emptied itself. Anders kneeled next to her, offering her a damp cloth to wipe her mouth with. She accepted it begrudgingly as well as the glass of water he brought. She swished the liquid around her mouth before spitting it out, again into the wastebasket.  
“This is all your fault.” She muttered, glaring at him.   
“I’m fairly sure it was a joint effort, love.” His hand was cold against her cheek and she held it to her skin like a compress.   
“You talked me into this wanting a family thing; I was fine with just the cat.” She sighed. “I’m going to get fat and none of my clothing is going to fit and I’ll be gross and ugly.” Anders chuckled and kissed her hair gently.   
“You’ll be pregnant, not fat, and I will always think you are beautiful.”  
“You made me this way; you’re obligated to say that.”  
“I love you.”  
“Well you’d better.” She told him, leaning against his shoulder and closing her eyes.   
“Always, I promise.” He moved so one of his arms cradled her back and the other went just under her knees, lifting her and carrying her to their bed.


	14. Chapter 14

Hawke’s jaw dropped as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Despite protests she didn’t wear a gown but rather a long tunic that puffed out vaguely skirt like over her stomach and hips. It, the leggings and her boots were all white while the thin sash she wore around her waist was bright red. She smiled at the young bride in the mirror, watching the light travel to her sparkling sapphire eyes. In her hands she clutched a simple bouquet of late summer roses and Andraste’s grace.   
“You clean up good Hawke.” She turned her attention from her reflection to the dwarf standing next to her. Varric smiled up at her, offering his arm. “Blondie’s a lucky man.”   
“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” She whispered, taking his arm.   
“Let’s not keep them waiting, don’t want Baby Hawke hatching before we get you to the altar.” She blushed and nodded as he led her out the door. 

Sunshine greeted them as they stepped out into the garden, an aisle of rose petals and early fallen leaves guided them between the rows of spectators. Hawke barely noticed them, her eyes meeting with Anders’ expression of awe. Tears of pure joy clung to her lashes as Varric guided her towards her groom. When they reached the alter Hawke turned to Varric, leaning down to hug him tightly and press a kiss to his cheek.   
“Thank you.” She whispered. “For everything.”   
“Anytime” He promised as they parted, him placing her hand in Anders’. “Take care of her Blondie, or they won’t find the body.” Anders nodded quickly and Varric went to sit next to Bethany and Nathaniel. Now that they were standing before her, Merrill cleared her throat and began the ceremony. Hawke gave Anders’ hand a little squeeze and he flashed her a quick smile that left her nearly breathless. 

Erica felt Alistair wince as she squeezed his arm, again, trying to keep her outburst of glee under control. He chuckled quietly and shook his head at her.  
“You are adorable.” He whispered. She blushed and shushed him but a smirk stretched itself across her lips. Her eyes were locked on the couple at the altar and she fought the urge to squeal when they sealed their vows with a kiss. Cheering and rose petal throwing began as the now married bride and groom made their way back up the aisle. Erica smiled up at Alistair, taking his hand so that their rings clinked together. He returned her grin as they joined the crowd in moving to the ballroom. 

“I don’t see why anyone would want to get married, all that kissing is gross.” Variel told him as they stood leaning against the balcony, overlooking the ballroom. Kieran smirked at her.  
“You might change your mind one day.”  
“Nope, never going to happen, boys have cooties.”   
“Variel, you know I’m a boy right?” She blinked up at him, before frowning in thought.   
“Well MOST boys have cooties, I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I married you though.”   
“I think your father would object,” he laughed. “Besides we’re both too young to get married.”  
“One day we won’t be.” She whispered, more to herself than him. “But even then, I don’t think I’d want to get married, that’s still an awful lot of kissing.”  
“Maybe you just have to marry someone you don’t mind kissing.” Variel thought about it for a moment before a sly grin crossed her face and she climbed up to sit on the railing. “Variel what are you doing!” Kieran hissed. Her grin broadened, and she leaned in so that they were face to face.   
“Gathering intelligence.” She told him, before pressing her lips to his. Kieran blinked and took a step back.   
“Variel!” She looked up at him, hurt, pressing her fingers against her mouth.   
“…why’d you run away?”   
“Because, you’re too young to be kissing anyone.” She looked away slowly, nodding her head. He frowned, and reached his hand out to cup her chin, getting her to face him. “Variel, we’re friends, I don’t want to upset you, but I’m a lot older than you…it’s…” She sniffled. “Look, I promise you, when you’re old enough, if you still want to kiss me, I’ll let you okay?”  
“Pinkie swear?” She asked, holding out her hand, little finger extended. He nodded and looped his finger around hers.  
“Pinkie swear.” 

She giggled as Anders carried her over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind them.  
“You didn’t have to do that.” She told him, pressing their lips together. He hummed into the kiss, before pulling back.   
“Oh but I did.” He told her as he walked over to the bed, laying her down on it. “Some traditions have to be observed.” He laid down next to her, his hand stroking her cheek. “You’re my wife now.”  
“You’re my husband.” She leaned in to rub their noses together. “We’re married.”  
“We are.” He closed his eyes, slanting his head slightly as he claimed her mouth. She giggled against his lips before sighing into the kiss as her eyes slid shut. They moved against each other slowly, savoring the feel of one another before they parted, panting.   
“I love you.”  
“I love you too.” Slowly his hand reached under her tunic to rest gently against her stomach. “And this little one.” Hawke moved her head to rest against his chest. “Who’s probably worn you out already.”  
“Not too worn out…if we’re still keeping traditions.” Anders kissed her hair.  
“We might be…”  
“Then you should probably get my clothes off.” He nodded and started undressing her.

Erica had her head pillowed against Alistair’s shoulder, eyes closed, as they sat with their backs against the headboard.   
“Today was perfect.” She whispered. “It almost makes me want to do the wedding thing again.”   
“With the same groom I hope,” Alistair teased.   
“Of course, you’d be lost without me.” He nipped her ear “Oh very mature.” He grinned. “What am I going to do with you?”   
“Well…” he traced his finger in small circles over her arm. “I might have a few ideas.”   
“I’m listening….”   
“I would very much like to make love to my wife, should she be agreeable to that suggestion.”   
“She might be.” Erica shrugged. “If you earn it.”  
“And how would you like me to do that?” He asked, looking at her through his lashes. She smiled.  
“You’re clever and creative, you’ll think of something.” He nodded, his lips meeting hers briefly before they trailed down her neck. She hummed, leaning back to grant him better access to her throat. “I suppose this is a start.” She admitted. His hands moved around her back to unbutton her dress before pushing it down her shoulders. “Better.” His mouth moved to a nipple and her hands reached down to his hair, tugging it gently. “Much better.” He hummed against her skin before pulling back.   
“And that’s just part of the warm up.” He promised her.


	15. Chapter 15

Kieran stood on the outskirts of the city, looking towards the edge of the forest. His father and stepmother stood beside him as a single black wolf appeared near the tree line. The animal approached slowly, golden eyes meeting with Kieran’s own as the wolf shifted back into its original form.  
“Mother.” He stepped into her open arms, smiling against her neck when they wrapped around him. She pressed a gentle kiss to his hair before releasing him, to face Alistair and Erica.  
“Morrigan,” Erica greeted softly, knowing her old friend’s preferences for quiet and dislike of physical contact.  
“‘Tis been a long time, I see you’re still with the fool.” Morrigan’s words might have been unkind but her tone had lost its bite.  
“Witch.” Alistair nodded at her, a gentler version of the name he’d used to call her quite frequently. Erica gave him a nudge and disapproving shake of her head all the same though.  
“You two…” She warned, taking a step towards Morrigan, and bringing Duncan, who’d been hiding behind her skirt, into view. “Duncan, say hello to Aunt Morrigan.” The toddler blushed, hiding his most of his face in his mother’s skirt before waving shyly at the mage.  
“Hi…” he whispered before quickly retreating back to his hiding place. Morrigan’s face softened and she made a small hum before cleaning her throat. Erica smiled, stroking her child’s hair.  
“He’s at that age.” Erica explained. Morrigan nodded, placing her hand on Kieran’s shoulder.  
“I am familiar, I think.” She turned to her head to face Kieran. “Are you ready?” She asked.  
“Just a moment.” He gave a whistle and Nymeria came bounding towards him. “We have a watchdog now.” Morrigan pursed her lips, eyes narrowing at Alistair.  
“Your doing?” she accused.  
“And worth it, if only for the look on your face…” Morrigan sighed.  
“And I thought my days of finding half-mauled hares in my underthings were over…very well.” She turned to leave, looking over her shoulder for Kieran to follow. The boy nodded briefly, before kneeling in front of his younger brother.  
“You be good, alright? Keep Variel out of trouble.” He ruffled Duncan’s hair before straightening, facing Erica. “Thank you.”  
“You are always welcome back. There will always be a place for you.” She told him. He smiled, and turned to Alistair.  
“I…what she said…always, even if I have to announce it until it echoes off the Frostbacks.” He pressed a hand to Kieran’s shoulder. “And please don’t fall through any more windows.” He whispered, pulling Kieran into a hug. The teen laughed.  
“Yes Father,” he promised. Alistair nodded and pulled back. Kieran smiled and bowed his head, turning to follow Morrigan back into the forest, Nymeria following happily behind them.

They stood on the balcony, looking up at the twin full moons.  
“It’s beautiful.” Erica whispered. Alistair shrugged, resting his chin on the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her.  
“It’s nice.” He leaned forward to kiss her hair. “You’re beautiful.”  
“Flatterer.” She teased. He grinned and then sighed.  
“It’s going to be noisy around the palace soon, what with Hawke and Bethany…two new arrivals.”  
“Is that so bad?” Erica asked quietly. Alistair shook his head.  
“Of course not, we’ve got that army of nannies for a reason.” He joked. Erica smiled, turning to face him, her hands resting against his chest.  
“Yes, indeed we do…” She hummed. He looked down at her, arching an eyebrow.  
“What are you thinking?”  
“Me? Nothing, just distracted, I’ve been tired a lot more recently.” She shrugged, moving back towards their bedroom. “And the strangest food cravings…for the last week I’ve hungered exclusively for apples, nothing else seems to satisfy me.”  
“Have you been to see Anders?” Alistair asked, following her inside. She nodded.  
“He assured me it was nothing to worry about, but that I might gain a little bit of weight…”  
“No matter what, you will always be beautiful to me.”  
“Thank you. He also said that a little bit of fatigue was normal, maybe nausea in the mornings, vertigo…” Alistair frowned.  
“That sounds like it could be serious Erica, did he tell you when you would start feeling better?”  
“Ah, yes, he said it could take about 9 months.”  
“9 months? That’s ages to be feeling unwell and he said it was nothing to worry abou…” his eyes widened. “Wait…9 months, as in ‘9 months’ 9 months?” Erica smiled up at him, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips against his, nodding as she did so. “You mean…?”  
“I’m pregnant Alistair.”


End file.
